


Forsaken

by discombobulation



Series: the final frontier (isn’t as great as it seems) [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Lung Cancer, M/M, Motorcycles, Red String of Fate, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, shiro loves you baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discombobulation/pseuds/discombobulation
Summary: 1. v:to quit or leave entirely; abandon; desert---look at beginning notes for triggers





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't watched Season 3 yet but Halsey and Douglas Dare kept hitting me with feelings, so why not write angsty modern AUs? Again, very little dialogue, but that's not unusual for my style. 
> 
> My soulbonds are a bit weird, but it's a very emotional and mental attachment, and strong feelings are sent through. It's a little sketchy at some places but there's absolutely NO dubcon. 
> 
> They meet right before Keith's 16th birthday, and before Shiro's 23rd. I actually do include his face scar, prosthetic, and white forelock.
> 
> Have I yet apologized for the bucket of feels that I'm going to throw? Be prepared to be hit by both the feels and the bucket. 
> 
> Triggers: Car Accidents, Vomiting, Cancer, Death

When he was 7, his marking blew away his childish mind; the stars that seeming popped out at him in violent reds and blacks and purples that painted his chest would scream violence to anyone other than Shiro. But to the young boy, the mark  breathed when he did, giving comfort and relief from hectic days in the dojo and even more exciting days when Matt stirred up trouble in class and Shiro — _never Takashi, the solemn boy had sworn to himself and his mark, only until I meet you—_  couldn't help but get caught in the excitement, eyes glittering obsidian stones and smile wide. At first, Matt had complained at the sudden name change, after all, he had been allowed to call him Takashi before, and doesn't Matt matter more than someone Shiro has never met? And so their parents pulled him aside and explained what it meant for Shiro and Matt just shrugged and nodded, after all; Shiro was a _much_ cooler name than Takashi.

As he aged, the marking on his chest only served to grow more beautiful to the boy, who traced the stars and outline of the moon, marveling at the distinct difference of texture between his true skin and it. Sometimes the mark tingled, and if made his heart warm and belly fluttery and he didn't tell anyone, because he knew that his mark was special and that even his mommy wouldn't understand the connection they already have, even though they've never met in everything but soul. He would dream vividly of untarnished night skies and desert storms, sand buffeting his face as a stranger would cling to him, making noises of awe and wonder. Though he was never able to grasp the features, he refused to let himself be frustrated, delighting in being able to play chase for a soft moment with gentle hugs. 

As he hit his teenage years, he felt things shift with the way his body functioned. Instead of the mark bringing pleasure and happiness, some moments would deliver sharp pains that would give him heartburn and gagging that worried anyone around him. Doctors were able to tell for certain that it was leftover pain from his soulmate, although they were baffled about how they could have such a strong connection even though they've never met outside of dreams. But sometimes, instead of pain, he would be hit with intense feelings of loneliness and longing that would drive him to near tears; only when he was closer to being an adult than a teen did any sort of arousle shoot through the bond, and even then it was never with the intensity but it left him just as floaty and spaced out. Those moments were fleeting, but he treated them warily, knowing of the distance between their ages almost too well for him to ever be comfortable until they're both adults, if they even are able to meet each other.

He's 22 when he meets him.

 

The moment he touched the 15-year old, Shiro's eyesight exploded in shocks of red and blacks and purples just as his marking portrayed, eyes wide as he looked at the young black-belt he was training. He didn't notice the people stopping and staring, nor did he notice his parents closing down lessons for the day, looking back with a smile as they reminisced over their first meeting, leaving the two to talk it out.

Only Keith had immediately attacked him once the glamour faded, facing a battle of different emotions as he kicked a leg up at Shiro, who just defended against the smaller teen with a soft look and gentle parries to disbelieving blows. He felt the surprise and frustration and disbelief thrum along the bond, and focused on his emotions, the elation, the happiness. He felt the blows slow, soften into tentative touches that explore each other and soft prods at the bond that sent goosebumps up their and shivers down their spines. Keith had moved closer to him, and he could smell the other male, the scent of him under the scent of sweat; crispness that reminded him of the short break between fall and winter; the smell of cactus and sand, with his hands' callouses resembling the harshness of both.

They jumped apart at a cough, Shiro's nose and ears burning red as Keith averted his eyes, shifting his weight as Shiro's parents just chuckled and waved them off, telling them not to cause any trouble but to get to know each other more. Shiro tilted his head as he turned to the younger male, keeping his eyes light and kind. 

"Would you be interested in hanging out once we change?" He asked, smiling, prepping himself for a possible rejection but couldn't help but finding himself hoping desperately; after all, this was his soul mate, the soul mate that painted a vivid picture of curiosity and wonder and longing on his chest. He couldn't help but wonder if his for Keith is just as magnificent, or if it paled in the sheer beauty and ferocity. 

Keith answered with a short nod, already turning away to the locker room with Shiro following after him, slipping into a stall as Shiro stayed in the main area, quickly pulling off his karategi and folding it, tugging on much more comfortable and casual clothes. He left the locker room with a soft mentioning that he'll wait in front of the dojo, hanging his parents the uniform and sending them off with a fond wave. 

 

He he found his soul mate, and nothing was going to knock him down. 

 

Shiro watched with a fond smile as his 17, nearly 18, year old soul mate pushed against him, a pout adorning his face as he whine. 

"But Shiro," the younger male muttered into his chest, tone petulant, "stay, at least for a while. _Please_?" Keith finally looked up through his eyelashes, batting them, trying to persuade the male into staying a little longer. 

"No, Keith," he answered gently, pulling the male off of him with gentle tugs, "I need to head home and feed Jasper and I have work in the morning. If you're good at school tomorrow, though, I'll see if it's okay for Jasper and I to _maybe_ spend the night on Friday. _Maybe_." He reiterated when he felt the excitement thrum through the bond. "And it's not like we're going to do anything. Nothing adult until you're an adult, remember?" Keith chanced an eye roll, standing straighter to give the older male a kiss on the cheek before finally giving him some space, only to cross his arms. 

"I _know_ , Shiro, you remind me at least three times a day."

"Hey, I can't be too safe. You're very convincing. If I didn't deal with little kids all the time, I would be sure to fall to your ways." He teased, laughing at the huff he received, ruffling the younger male's hair before turning out the door, waving as he reached and climbed onto the motorcycle that he found Keith admiring way more times than the younger would admit to, smile on his face as he left his soul mates' apartment. 

He drove with a smile on his face, keeping his attention rapt onto the road, pulling up to a stop light as he fiddled with the straps of his helmet and jacket. Jumping at a honk that came from behind him, he looked up and saw the light flash from red to green, and revved before speeding forward. He didn't see the purple streak until it smashed into the right side, sending him flying into darkness as his body thudded into harsh ground. Distantly, he wondered if Keith would be okay without him as he faded, screaming and yelling voices slurring into a monotone static as he tumbled into the land of unconscious. _Shiro loves you baby_.

It would be too long until Keith sees that smile once more. 

 

* * *

 

He woke to bright lights, incessant noises that grated his consciousness, and a warm presence clutching to his hand that screamed security and love and grief. He kept his eyes closed, head already aching from the bright white light that shone through his skin. He flexed his left hand, gently squeezing back the hand holding his, knowing from distant memory and a throbbing in his chest that this was Keith, _his Keith_ , he was here with him and everything would be alright. Then, he tried to flex his left foot, then his right foot, and moved up, trying to flex his right hand.

It wasn't there.  

With panicked breaths, he jolted up, eyes pulling open as the heart monitor started picking up and he looked down at where his right arm should be, breaths coming even quicker when he realized it was gone and _oh god what happened to his arm, in fact, what happened why is he in a hospital what_ —

"Shiro," a soft voice spoke next to his ear, and said male flung his head to the side, he focused his gaze on Keith. "Shiro baby, look at me. Breathe with me, okay? One, two, three, repeat..." Shiro breathed, forcing himself to calm down as he listened to the younger boy talk, eyes still wide but heartbeat more relaxed as he wrapped his arm around Keith. "You good now, Shiro?" The male whispered into his ear, only returning the hug when Shiro nodded, the boy basically clinging to him, when usually he shied away from any sort of touch. 

"You were in an accident, nailed directly on the shoulder by an asshole going more than he should have. Doc said that if they didn't take your arm, you'd have died from an internal infection. Your leg wasn't hit as hard but it still got cut up, and your nose is scarred from whatever you hit when you hit the road." Keith explained quietly, voice empty as he clutched to the male. "It's been close to a year since you fell comatose. The doc said it was your brain probably trying to heal itself since it didn't have to worry about your arm anymore. But now you're nearly 26, I'm 18, and I really _fucking missed you_." Suddenly, Keith shuddered as tears started escaping, streaming down his face and into the cheap hospital gown. Shiro wasn't bothered by the tears or the blunt tone as Keith explained what happened; he enjoyed the almost childish bluntness and honesty, and he knew he put his soulmate through more than he ever should have. 

"I'm sorry, baby." Shiro muttered as he held the boy tighter. 

"Don't apologize, you moron," Keith replied through his tears, "I knew something was gonna happen the minute the bond froze after I heard you think something. The doctors said that it's common for coma patients' soul mates' bonds' “freeze” when they fall under, said it was a good thing and that it'd make sure I didn't get any residue pain from you. I'm just glad you aren't _dead_ , Takashi." Shiro startled at the mention of his first name, before tucking his face down a kissing Keith on the top of his head. 

"I could never leave you like that, baby."

 

They had a few weeks before they figured out something else was going on inside of Shiro. Shiro knew he wasn't quite right when he vomited red and brown chunks. He told a nurse, and she had furrowed her brow but told him to let doctors worry, that the current progress that his recovery was making would mean nothing if Shiro started stressing out now. But the look on her face told Shiro all that he needed to know; something was going on with his body, and it was something bad. But he kept his mouth shut, and didn't mention it to Keith, who had become more clingy and open with Shiro since he woke up. They hadn't labeled themselves as anything, but didn't have to. Everyone knew that now that Keith was an adult, he was now playing the same game of cards as the rest of them. 

Shiro let life flow until he vomited again when a doctor was checking up on him, who then immediately insisted on scheduling a CAT scan and an MRI. 

"It's just to be sure," the lady, Dr. Leigh she had introduced, insisted. "Vomiting brown and red chunks means a lot of things. It could be an infection, or it could be internal bleeding. We can only hope for the best but prepare for the worst." So Shiro had gone quietly, but had finally resigned himself to tell Keith this new development. They'd been planning to get him released within the week so they could start planning for his birthday in a month and a half, but this put a damper on his plans and any joyful emotions that they hadn't allowed themselves to express when Shiro was still sitting on Death's door. 

As nurses wheeled him down to the testing room, he rolled the most prosthetic around, clenching the fist as he tested out the reaction time and strength, just as his other doctor, Dr. Victoria, had taught him to do. He would be alright; after all, he had promised Keith that they would make it out of this mess alive. 

 

"You have Stage 3 Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, and it's quickly metasizing into Stage 4."

Shiro had physically reeled backwards at the news, eyes wide and unblinking, unseeing, as the information took its time to sink into his bones. Keith, however, was a different story. 

"How come you didn't find it sooner?" He snarled at the unfortunate doctor, his navy-purple eyes flashing as he clutched at Shiro's hand like a life line. 

"We're terribly sorry. We don't check for lung cancer in most patients that don't have a history, and we rely a lot on patient complaints to diagnose it, as it takes a very real and physical toll on the patient when it's in Stage 1 and 2. But since Shiro has been in a coma and it's not advised to do most scans on comatose patients, there would have been almost no way for us to know. We have people looking into what could have caused this, seeing as your family only has a history of heart disease and stress related illnesses, but so far we have no leads." The doctor paused before physically steeling himself. "Your cancer is inoperable. Your body is too weak to consider surgery to try and remove the tumors, so we're planning on doing a minimum of 6 weeks chemotherapy, with injections every week to boost your white blood cells.

"However, lung cancer kills a lot of people, but we have hope for you. You were fit and healthy before you came to us almost a year ago; and you're on a rapid climb to health. I'll give you and your boyfriend time to talk before I send in nurses to help you move to the long-term cancer ward. Sending you home would be too risky if the tumors start to spread. Have a good day." And with that, the doctor left the room with a flap of his lab coat, as if he hadn't just grabbed Shiro and Keith's hope and smashed it into tiny pieces. 

They didn't speak as they curled into each other and cried soft tears, and didn't stop holding each other even as nurses came and moved all of Shiro's things, Keith only moving to stand as he and Shiro clutched each other's hands tightly, Keith's sniffles echoing in his ears as he was wheeled down to his uncertain future.

 

Shiro was tired. Chemotherapy sapped away at all of his energy; and the drug injections made his bones ache and his skin pale. Keith had stressed about the weight he was losing, but any meal he actually was able to eat never stayed down and he'd rather be thin than have his throat too sore to speak to his Keith. Doctors had been whispering about him in worried and hushed tones, so Shiro knew his time was probably coming to a close. He could feel it in the way his chest sometimes refused to take a breath, the way he felt burning sores itch at his throats as he coughed blood into a handkerchief or sheet. He knew Keith was worried; he'd been coming in when Shiro knew he should be working or doing schoolwork, but he couldn't fight with him too much on it. He knew Keith could feel his death approaching as much as Shiro could. So he treasured his time with his love and his family and gave thanks for every kiss and soft touch he lived for. 

 

Shiro woke up and knew he was going to die. He could tell by the shortness of breath; by the blood that has been coming up more and more as the weeks had passed; by the way more and more doctors attended his chemotherapy sessions and whispered about him. So he called Keith to the hospital, and charmed the nurses to let him stay the entire day with him, and that they wouldn't kick him out. And so he cuddled his boyfriend and shared soft kisses and chocolate, face timing his parents for the final time as they watched sappy movies and laughed and loved together. And when Shiro felt tired and worn out, and told Keith to stay, he knew he was running out of time. 

"Keith?"

"Yeah Shiro?"

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Shiro."

And so Shiro fell into oblivion with his boyfriend clutching his real hand, tears staining his cheeks as they shared one final goodbye, Keith whispering I love you until he was sure Shiro was gone before breaking into body shuddering sobs as nurses gathered into the room and sang for their dead patient as other cancer patients looked into the room and gave a prayer of safe travels and heaven to the kind male that had lit up their days when his own were dark. 

Keith forever treasured the smile that was on his face as he faded; the taste of the disgusting raspberry chocolates that Shiro loved on his tongue as he clutched his lover and cried and wondered why it went so _wrong_ for them when all they did was love unconditionally. He felt the ghost of a kiss against his lips and knew it was Shiro wishing him one last goodbye and a promise that they will meet again when it's time, and an insistence that Keith live and love and be happy without him, with nothing but memories and pictures of a time where everything felt _right_. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith.

As a child cursed to be unlucky, his soul-tattoo was intricate and gorgeous and everything he’d ever want in a partner; a weirdly kind-looking roaring lying with angelic wings, floating on his thigh. It spoke of promises and whispers of love and want and curiosity. Their bond wasn’t intense, breathtaking and damning all the same. He kept the bond to himself, dreaming of his Takashi, unable to see the features but savoring them all the same. That was a name he would never let leave his brain.

He felt hopeless when he realized that his soulmate likely felt everything he felt and his dull hurts of fighting those who deserved it and maybe even those who didn’t. He found that he didn’t care until he realized that he should.

Meeting Shiro at the dojo was a pleasent surprise, but a terrifying prospect. He didn’t understand how someone so perfect was the one he wasn’t deserving of. But as their lives progressed together and they fell hopelessly in love he understood. 

The dates they went on were perfect; Shiro had excellent tastes in fast-food, and Keith showed him all the hidden trails on the nature trails and would point out the stars to the older man, oblivious to the loving and affectionate looks given as he droned on and on about the relative distance and size and everything he knew about the stars and constellations.

One night, they made a promise. 

_“If you’re able to get your doctorate in astrophysics, I’ll marry you.”_

_”Then you have to do the same with your veterinary exams at the end of the year.”_

_”Promise?” “Pinky promise.”_

They broke their promises.

 

Watching as the only man he loved lie on a sterile white bed with half of an arm and bandages around his face with a cast on husband leg made him want to scream. He blamed himself; he should’ve begged harder, shoulda have convinced him to stay just a bit longer, should have, should have...

Being told he was in a coma was a kick to the stomach. Insult to injury. He left that hospital room in shambles, his psyche broken and bond frozen in time to the same moment when Takashi’s confusion turned into terror as he ignored all false comforts whispering it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known. 

He took care of Jasper like it gave him new life, and pursued his education with a ferocity he had only put into martial arts.

He didn’t go back into Takashi’s room for two months, but would make sure he always had flowers and balloons and would watch him from outside the door if the guilt ate at him too much or if the terror became all-consuming. He left the mourning behind and threw himself into trying to live, despite listening to Japser’s pained whines and howls for Shiro, despite the frozen feeling of terror.

He would push on and live until Takashi was able to live with him.

Shiro’s awakening brought back the vibrancy he didn’t realize all the colors in his life was missing. It brought back the happy hum of birds in the morning and the happy almost-barks of Jasper when he was allowed to see Shiro.

Keith should have known the happiness wouldn’t have lasted for him.

 

* * *

 

 

Takashi’s death was agony. Watching as the tattoo that belonged on _Shiro_ appear on _him_ nearly destroyed him. He felt too numb to cry; to think; the only thing he could do was take care of Jasper and cuddle with the fluffy dog and stare blankly off into the ceiling. 

The funeral was worse. 

The stuffiness, so opposite of what encompassed _Shiro_ , was suffocating, and the constant consolations and condolences made him wish that he didn’t come. Jasper’s whining at Shiro’s coffin is finally what broke his haze, what caused him to clutch onto Shiro’s mother like a lifeline and sob because _he only had him back for a short time, it wasn’t fair it wasn’t **fair**_. She sobbed with him, muffling her cries in his hair as he muffled his in her shoulder and he felt so wrong for feeling comforted but he couldn’t escape. Shiro would’ve wanted him to cry, but the thought of that truth just made him sob louder. The chime of the funeral bells caused Shiro’s father to join the hug, encompassing both mourners with warm arms and fresh tears as they sobbed over the loss of someone so precious and special to them and their hearts.

They left Arizona to go home Japan two months after his death. They invited, persisted, and almost made Keith come with, but relented at the last moment. They left him alone with his grief while they tried to heal from theirs. He never found himself able to hate them for leaving. If he hadn’t made that promise, he likely would’ve left. But he also had Jasper and his studies to take care of. His healing could and did wait.

He hyper-focused on his studies of astrophysics, refusing to fall bait to both the jabs and sympathies of teachers and students. He cut himself off, only talking while working as a mechanic part-time, eyes cold with loss as color slowly seeped back out of his life. 

He still wears Shiro’s clothes. He doesn’t wash them. He cries with Jasper in them, and soon he can’t even leave his apartment without the dog, relying on the monster of fluff to comfort him and remind him that not everything is broken. Most everything is, but not all of it. 

Shiro would want him to move on. And he was almost able to.

And then Jasper died. 

The last of the color in Keith’s life left then, not even able to see the roaring purple lion with peaceful angel wings floating on husband thigh, or the red and black stars and moon painted on his chest. He graduated, barely, and threw himself into his work. No one looked twice as he slept less and less and lost weight. He knew people tried to get through to him about taking care of himself, but all he could hear was Shiro’s voice whispering ‘ _I love you, baby_ ’ with the last of his strength and his strongest voice reminding him ‘ _to be good and maybe I’ll stay Friday_ ’ and-

That’s when he realized that maybe he wasn’t meant for a world without Shiro. That in his years trying to live, Shiro’s waiting for him in another. 

He plans his death carefully. He didn’t break need to. His apartment building went in flames and he died of his injuries from trying to save the kids in the apartment over, who were stuck and needed help getting out. 

He thinks Shiro would be proud. 

  

* * *

 

In another universe, Shiro is pulling Keith close, mouthing kisses against his lips as the other laughs. _Space wasn’t so bad for them_ , they think, _despite all the pain it’s given_. 

When Lance asked Allura how she felt about it, she gained a sparkle in her eyes with her answer. 

“They’ll travel through the universe for each other.”

This answer gained a scoff, but Allura didn’t elaborate, pressing a kiss to Lance’s cheek.

“Their souls are forever bound,” she whispers into his cheek. “Their string of fate is long and complicated but beautiful.” And it was so. 

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all want, I'll write a second chapter (or a separate fic) for Keith's perspective, and there will definitely be more words to that, as I definitely will take the chance to angst away, such as Keith's reaction to the call, Jasper crying for Shiro, ect ect. 
> 
> This is actually my first time writing something completely in Shiro's POV, so I hope it isn't too OOC or bad. 
> 
> Tumblr: grapefruitjay


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